Tarrant Hightopp Senior
by brassybats
Summary: During a break in Italy, Tarrant receives a phone call from the police station, and he finds the other Hatter in quite a poor condition. Based on a PSA for drunk driving that a certain T performer did. Alice in Wonderland/Mad T Party crossover. Forms: Steven Tyler Hatter.


The bedroom, when empty, was strange. Tarrant would admit that it was nice to be unbothered. IT allowed him to mend his hat in peace. However, he had gotten used to the soft singing that came from the other side of the room. He tried humming to himself, thinking that would distract him from the silence. It didn't help, being a bit bothersome instead. He decided to relocate to the living. Perhaps the Alices were up to something interesting, like tea.

Just as he stood, the phone rang. This was quite unusual, as no one ever called this number except for wake-up calls, and he was most surely awake. He hesitantly picked up the receiver and brought it up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Is this Tarrant Hightopp Senior?" spoke a heavily accented voice.

Senior? What was this? "Tarrant Hightopp, yes. This is he," the hatter replied, though not without some caution.

"This is the police department. We have your son, Tarrant Hightopp Junior, down here at the station."

His brows furrowed at this. He didn't think they would be tricking him. Was that even possible? "My son…" he began to say. It then became clear. He couldn't help but smile a little. "What did he do?"

"We caught him driving under influence of alcohol."

Tarrant's smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. "That isn't like him at all," he responded truthfully.

"Well, we just need you to pick him up. No charge."

"I'll be right there, officer."

Of all the places Tarrant thought he'd have needed to drive to he certainly hadn't thought of a police station in Italy. He had little trouble maneuvering the vehicle through the cobblestone streets, despite having only driven a car once in California. He did have to ask a pedestrian for directions, which she provided with a most startled expression.

When he entered the station, he was met with the bemused and surprised faces of police officers. A few whispered to each other in quick Italian.

"May I help you?" one officer, a woman, finally spoke up.

"I'm here to retrieve my son." Tarrant artfully hid his smile as he spoke the sentence.

"Come with me."

She hastily led him through several halls, finally stopping at a room in the back. She stepped up to another officer, whose had his head bowed over a clipboard. They exchanged briefly in Italian, and the man looked up. He glanced at Tarrant, and then he looked again, his eyes wide and his brows rose.

"Dad!" cried a sudden voice from the holding cell across the room. There, behind the bars, stood the young hatter. His stance was unsteady; his knees buckled, and he had to clutch the bars to keep from falling. He looked quite miserable, and Tarrant felt somewhat sorry for him.

"You are the young man's father?' the officer questioned incredulously.

"Yes, I am," Tarrant answered him.

The man looked between the two, a question crossing his face. His eyes roamed up to the bright orange hair, then inspected their faces. He appeared to compare, calculate, judge the two cautiously.

"His eyes are not like yours," he observed.

"They're his mum's eyes," the older Hatter easily made up.

"And the accent?"

Tarrant frowned, stuck on an answer. He shot a glance at Hatter, who quickly spoke up.

"Mother was a Californian," he slurred, and he nodded towards Tarrant. "I was around her more often."

"If I may ask," the woman broke in with a critical stare, "Exactly what profession are you in?"

This time, Tarrant allowed himself to smile, and when he did, it was a mischievous smirk. "My family and I are in the hatting business. We make them the old-fashioned way."

The two officers traded a worried glance, and the male quickly said,

"That is all. Hightopp, you are free."

He pulled a set of keys from his belt and unlocked the cell. As soon as the door opened, Hatter stumbled out, and he collided into the older Hatter.

"Thank you very much," Tarrant told the officers, at the same time straightening the bendy young man and pulling one of his arms around his own shoulders. "I promise you, it will not happen again."

He guided and almost dragged his burden out of the station, nodding in farewell to the officers as he struggled through the door. When they reached the car, he unlocked and opened the front passenger side, and he kept his hands on the hat maker as he crawled inside. Hatter sat down heavily and leaned his head back. Tarrant circled around to the other side and slid into his seat. He reached across, pulled Hatter's seatbelt to buckle it, and the he buckled his own. He set off into the road, and all was fine and quiet for a few minutes. The traffic steadily grew, however, and before long, the vehicle barely moved forward.

"It seems the journey will take longer than expected," Tarrant remarked with a little laugh.

"Tarrant?" The word was soft and blurry. Tarrant looked over at the Hatter, who now sat slumped with his face in his hands.

"Yes?"

"M' sorry." He seemed to want leave it at that, and his eyes slid closed. Tarrant chose this moment to ask of him what he had been wondering since the phone call.

"Why did you do that?"

The Hatter remained silent. He rubbed his face with his palm and sighed groggily. He swallowed audibly. Then he spoke.

"I was distressed." He hiccupped, and he folded his arms over his stomach. His head still hung as if it was too heavy to lift. "I just…Cat and Pillar's fighting, and I just don't know what that treatment will do for Hare and his insanity. Then Dormouse isn't well, Caterpillar's sick, and Alice thinks we're all just falling apart. Then there's the war and the whole demon thing, and I just - I didn't know what I was thinking. I couldn't think. I just wanted to get away."

His eyes drifted open, and he stared at his lap with a glazed over gaze. "I went out for a walk, met some guys, and went with them to the bar. Before I knew it I was drunk and dancin' and singin' on a table. We left laughing and fallin' over ourselves. I got in the driver's seat. Then we got caught. I didn't know who else to call, so I called you 'cause you seemed the best option."

Tarrant gave a little sigh after the lengthy explanation. He reached over, brushing back some of the Hatter's long scarlet hair. The poor thing looked pitiful, like a sorry puppy.

You could have spoken with me much earlier," Tarrant said softly, asif talking to an actual son of his.

"I know, but…I don't know. I told you, _I didn't think._" The last sentence brought his voice to a shout. Tarrant rubbed the young man's shoulder until he felt his breathing calm. The Hatter finally turned the foggy gaze to him, staring intensely into his face with twitching, unfocused pupils.

"You know what the weird thing is?" he questioned the elder Hatter in a voice that strained to be quiet.

"What is it?"

"While we were leaving the bar, and even while I was driving, I felt like we were being watched." He lowered his head again and muttered, "Think Alice'll find out?"

"Most certainly."

Hatter nodded slowly, and then his head dropped back so that he stared upwards. After a few seconds, he rolled his head towards the driver's seat.

"Tarrant?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks."

He promptly doubled over and vomited. Tarrant wrinkled his nose and hoped that this traffic jam would end soon.


End file.
